


I Must Have Gotten This Sick Somehow

by shallowlives



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, The Academy Is...
Genre: Anorexia, Eating Disorders, Jewish Character, M/M, by jewish i mean they eat matzo ball soup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:01:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23676541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shallowlives/pseuds/shallowlives
Summary: William is invited to eat dinner with Gabe's family, but he has a breakdown over matzo ball soup. As one does.
Relationships: William Beckett/Gabe Saporta
Comments: 13
Kudos: 23





	I Must Have Gotten This Sick Somehow

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short thing I wrote a few weeks ago and decided to publish because we need more Gabilliam. Eating disorder trigger warning if you didn't read the tags. Enjoy!
> 
> **Hotlines and resources for eating disorders: https://edresources.carrd.co/**

“Dinner?” William’s voice had a hint of panic to it, which Gabe assumed was because he was nervous to meet his family.

“Yeah. They want to meet you properly, we’ve been dating for almost three months now.”

William wrapped his hand around his wrist; it was a habit of his he often did absentmindedly. As he did, the visible bones in his hand flexed. “I… I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I…” William opened his mouth, looking for any excuse he could to get out of it, but there were no words ready on his tongue. Gabe was looking at him with expectation as he searched for a reason. William knew if he refused the invitation, Gabe would be disappointed for weeks even if he pretended it wasn’t a big deal. “I guess I’m just nervous about what they’ll think of me.”

“Are you kidding? Bilvy, they’ll love you.”

William studied the width of his wrist for a few seconds and then glanced back at Gabe. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, totally sure.”

“Cool. Dinner…” As he repeated the word, there was something that felt vile about it. “Thursday night it is, then.”

William ate the broccoli first after staring at his portion in an attempt to measure it. Was that a quarter of a cup? A half of a cup? All he knew for sure was that he was aching for the moment he could log the calories in his app.

Conversation went in and out of his ears. Gabe’s father, Diego, asked him how school was going, what his future plans were, how many children he wanted: all the supposedly normal questions to ask your son’s boyfriend. William was happy to answer most of them; anything to keep himself distracted from the sweet smell of food.

Then he finished the broccoli he had been slowly making a dent in and eventually a fourth of the bread, leaving just the matzo ball soup. He thought he knew the calories of everything by now, but apparently not matzo ball soup. William stirred it with his spoon as Diego’s wife, Ilana, started to tell some work story he could barely concentrate on listening to; in preparation for dinner, all day William had been avoiding food and his ravenous hunger was quite a distraction. As William took a small spoonful of the soup, he remembered how his stomach had growled when Gabe had opened the door for him and commented he must be starving; on the outside, William had only smiled and shyly nodded. On the inside, he only felt empty and nice. He wanted to stay empty, and the warm single drop of soup on his tongue felt like a betrayal of all that.

“Why haven’t you eaten more, William?” Ilana asked, snapping William out of the fog in his head. She must have finished her work story minutes ago while William was still distracted by the soup. As William looked up from his soup and gazed around the table, he saw everyone else’s plates were already mostly empty, consisting only of crumbs or second helpings. “Are you a picky eater like Gabe, too?”

He could feel everyone’s, especially Gabe’s, eyes on him and his plate, on the three-fourths of a piece of bread on his plate, on the entire two matzo balls and mostly-full bowl of soup that still lingered. All the pairs of eyes, all the questions they must have been wondering

“I…” William ended up sucking in a breath as he said it, sounding detached and light and on the verge of a breakdown, of which he considered himself two out of the three. “I…”

A tear slid down his cheek and he had to look down at the tablecloth, his hands tightening their grip on the edges of his seat. He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt himself ready to cry, unwilling to let even more tears fall, and bit down on his slightly-quivering bottom lip. William reached up to cover his mouth, his elbow knocking against his almost-clean silverware that lay on the untouched napkin.

Gabe gently placed his hand on William’s shoulder and suggested, “Let’s get some air.”

William nodded and got up, avoiding looking up as he followed Gabe quickly out of the dining room. He still had his hand over his mouth. The worst part was he couldn’t concentrate on one cohesive thought through the whole thing; all William knew was he was _hungry_ and he _wanted_ the matzo ball soup, and he was such a failure for thinking about food at a time like this when he should be thinking about the kind of impression this would leave on Gabe’s parents.

When they were outside on the back porch, silent except for chirping crickets and William’s sniffles as he struggled to hold back cries, Gabe wrapped his arms around his narrow shoulders and hugged him tight. “What’s wrong?”

William finally couldn’t hold back anymore and started to sob uncontrollably into Gabe’s shoulder, probably getting the sleeve of his t-shirt all wet with tears and snot, but he didn’t seem to mind. For a few minutes, William couldn’t answer because all he could really do was _cry,_ and all he could think was disparaging thoughts that made it worse.

Finally, when William’s crying seemed to be subsiding, Gabe asked again, “What is it? Is everything okay? You can tell me anything, Bilvy.”

William shook his head in his shoulder and mumbled, “Can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“Can’t tell you.”

“I don’t want to see you like this. Please, you can trust me with anything. Just tell me, I won’t say a word about it or judge you or anything.”

Memories ran through William’s head, of Gabe hands on his thighs and asking him how were they so _skinny_ he could almost wrap his entire hand around them, or of Gabe’s kisses on his jaw while telling him his jawline was so sharp it could _cut metal,_ and other memories as such. If he told him, Gabe would know it wasn’t natural. Gabe would leave him because in reality, William knew he just was a fat bitch with no self-control and it was only a matter of time until Gabe found out and he should be surprised he got to enjoy a relationship he didn’t deserve for this long, oh well.

Still, William shook his head again. “I… I just _can’t._ ”

“Please, William, just tell me.” Gabe pulled back from the hug and tried to make eye contact with him, but William avoided it by staring at the dark backyard behind him. “Look, I’ve noticed _something_ has got to be up with you lately, and I’m worried.”

“Like what?” William snapped, looking straight at Gabe. “Everything is _fine._ ”

“Clearly not when you just broke down crying at my dinner table! You cancel half of our dates, you’re always distracted, you keep losing weight—”

“Losing weight?” William scoffed. “I have not lost weight!” The numbers on the scale said he did, but the mirror told him otherwise.

“You have since we met, and I’m worried about you. Please, just tell me what’s wrong.” He pleaded.

“Nothing is wrong.”

Gabe didn’t say anything for a second. “You’re lying.”

“You want to know what’s wrong?” William threw caution out the window. “I’m fucking _hungry,_ that’s what’s wrong. I’m fat and I haven’t eaten anything today, and if I eat I’m never going to be fucking good enough!”

“Do… do you have an eating disorder?”

“No.” William denied, and then softly added, “I’m not skinny enough to have one.”

“Bilvy, you don’t have to be skinny to have an eating disorder. Even so, you… you are really skinny.”

William didn’t say anything. He could already feel the regret pool in his stomach. It made him nauseous, or maybe he was still just hungry and couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

Gabe reached out for his hand. “I love you. You are absolutely gorgeous. I don’t care what weight you are. Please, I don’t want to see you suffering like this. Just eat something, okay? I love you.”

William nodded, although he felt like it was against his better judgement. “Okay. But I don’t want to go back in there. They’re all gonna… they’ll all think I’m weird.”

“I promise they won’t.” Gabe said. “We don’t have to tell them anything. We don’t have to talk about this until later, okay? We can say someone you know died or something and get you something to eat and some tissues.”

“Okay.” William nodded again and sniffled, clinging to Gabe’s hand with his boney fingers. “I love you, too. Sorry I just… my mood can be…”

“It’s okay. I love you too.” Gabe placed a light kiss on his lips and gently smiled.

While they went inside, William still wondered how many calories were in matzo ball soup.

**Author's Note:**

> I remember when I sent this to my friend she was concerned over how accurate it was haha


End file.
